


Weird but Good

by Little_Bunny



Series: The Weird 'Verse [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Negativity about Kink, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pet Names, Platonic BDSM, Platonic Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships, Spanking, Talking Things Over Like Responsible Adults, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Bunny/pseuds/Little_Bunny
Summary: Their relationship is changing. But sometimes, change is good.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej & Sara Rubin
Series: The Weird 'Verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563661
Comments: 60
Kudos: 118





	1. The Pacifier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_local_lesbian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_local_lesbian/gifts).

> Disclaimers:
> 
> This uses the names/likenesses of real people, but it is completely fictional. This is based on a fictional reading of the media personas of the people within and has no connection to the actual people, places, company, or events referenced. It's all fictional, in a fictional universe.
> 
> This is not a how-to guide for BDSM. Do your own research if you wish to get involved in the BDSM scene.

Ryan doesn’t know how Shane is going to take this, but he just can’t help himself.

Listen, it's super-easy to return stuff to Amazon if Shane doesn’t like it.

He just wants to surprise his little.

_ His little. _ He takes a deep breath. Add that to the column of “Things Ryan Never Thought He’d Like, and Yet…”

And he is pretty sure Shane will actually like this little gift too, if he gives it a chance.

He clicks on “Add to Cart.”

* * *

Okay, fine. He buys a couple of things.

Some of them are easy enough to buy at the local Target.

Shane already has a wide variety of tee shirts with some kind of slightly immature print on them, so although the internet recommends that for little space, Ryan figures it's already covered. 

But he finds a pair of cute sippy cups. One is printed with childish pirates; the other has a pirate parrot. He grabs a coloring book and a pack of crayons too. It seems like an easy enough way to ease Shane into it. 

He really wants to buy him a stuffed animal, but he second-guesses himself at the last minute. It would probably be better if Shane picked that. If that’s something he wants.

And he isn’t sure if Shane will freak out if Ryan buys him pajamas or anything. Or like, if Sara will mind, even? Although Sara is honestly so chill with this whole thing. It’s kind of weirdly intimate to buy clothing for someone else, Probably something else to run by Shane first.

So he has the sippy cups and the coloring stuff, and then the package from Amazon finally arrives.

He opens it, of course, weirdly excited to check them out. It's three plain pacifiers-a black one, a white one, and a teal green one. He did the math and it's cheaper to buy 3 than one. They are a relatively small item. It seems inevitable that at least one will disappear into the ether. 

Listen, he knows Shane isn’t actually a toddler, but his cousins have kids. Any time he goes to their house, he finds pacifiers literally everywhere.

The greatest thing about them, though, is that they are made for littles. Like, the nipple is supposed to be for an adult-sized mouth, so it will, in theory at least, be comfortable.Shane is a little, but he is also a freaking Goliath. It seems kind of important that the stuff they use will actually fit him. Nobody is comfortable with things that are the wrong size.

He kind of thinks that he has one shot to convince Shane to try this particular thing, and he is determined to make it good. He doesn’t think a kid's pacifier from Target, like the kind his cousins' kids have, will be good enough to do the trick. 

The little big guy is always trying to put his knuckle in his mouth, which makes Ryan's inner-germaphobe absolutely crazy. And obviously, little Shane does not give a single shit about germs, because well… Why would he? He’s little. He doesn’t need to worry about that.

To be fair, adult Shane also doesn’t particularly worry about germs. He’s scared of forcible heroin injection, but not the common cold.

Instead, Ryan is the neurotic caretaker. And cleaning a pacifier seems way easier than trying to keep Shane's knuckle out of his mouth.

He just prays Shane will go with it. There is a real possibility he'll be too freaked out by the implications or whatever and just straight-up refuse. 

Well, Ryan is ready for whatever will come… But he really hopes it will be a success.

* * *

The next consideration is how to give Shane the gifts.

He wants Shane to be little, but the kind of little he can easily pop out of. He doesn’t want to spring these gifts on an emotional, clingy Shane who has just gone through an intense scene. He needs something with low stakes.

He still wraps them though. For one thing, none of his nosy roommates will find them accidentally that way, and for another…

Well, they are presents. His mama had taught him well.

Plus, he kinda wants to watch his little open them, ok?

* * *

> **_Ryan Bergara: Yo Shane, you wanna come over and play Super Smash Bros?_ **
> 
> ** _Shane Madej: At the Frat House?_ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: Frat Pack is AWOL. Roland's out with his gf, Max is out of town, and I just got a text from Marco that said, "C u tomorrow cuz tonight's my lucky night," so I guess his date's going well._ **
> 
> ** _Sara Rubin: Ew. Kinda thought that texting your bros that you're about to get lucky was a terrible Hollywood trope._ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: lol nope. Not everyone does it, but Marco? He's definitely the kind who does._ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: also he's like, 23, so he might grow out of it_ **
> 
> ** _Shane Madej: I'm down. Be there in 20. You have popcorn?_ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: who tf do you think you're talking to, buddy? Of course I do._ **

* * *

So they are curled up on the couch, and Shane's Kirby is currently beating the crap out of Ryan's Link. An empty bowl that had once held popcorn sits on the floor at their feet.

"No! No! Oh my God, Shane, you can't just--" Ryan can see exactly where this is going. He is definitely going to lose.

Time to fight dirty. Plus, he's been looking for an opportunity. He can kill two birds with one stone here.

He jabs his fingers into Shane's side. Shane lets out a loud yelp and jerks away.

"That's cheating!" he yells. "Oh my God, Ryan Bergara you dirty rotten cheater! Ahh!" 

Ryan, who has made peace with the fact that he is definitely going to lose, lets go of his controller so he can run his hands over Shane’s sides like a maestro over piano keys. Shane lets out a shriek of laughter. “Aw, poor thing! He’s ticklish,” Ryan teases. He digs into the soft sides of Shane's belly.

Shane lets out another shriek and jerks sideways so far that he is half-hanging over the end of the couch. "No faaaair!" he protests, giggling wildly. There is a loud clunk as his controller hits the floor.

Ryan laughs. "All's fair in love and war, baby!" But now that his objective is reached, he grabs Shane around the middle and pulls him against his side. Shane is still giggling, even as he tries to pout.

"Hey buddy," Ryan says, tucking Shane against his chest.

He feels Shane sigh and cuddle against him. "You still cheated, Ry," he says. Ryan smiles. That is definitely little Shane.

"Me, cheat? I would never!" Ryan says, mock-affronted. He pats Shane lightly on the hip. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"You can't spank me for that," Shane says, squirming slightly. "You did so cheat!"

Ryan laughs. "Mm, I suppose," he says. "Guess I'll have to save the spanking for when you're _ actually _ naughty."

"_ I _ wasn't the naughty one," Shane grumbles. Ryan lets out a wheeze, because it’s fucking adorable.

"No, you're right," he admits. "But hey. I've got a way to make it up to you."

Shane looks up at him. "It better be good," he says.

"Brat," Ryan replies with a laugh, popping him on the hip. "Come on, it's in my room."

He grabs Shane's hand and leads him into his bedroom. "Sit down," he says. He watches Shane sit at the head of the bed, his back against the wall and his legs crossed.

Ryan walks over to his closet and digs the gifts out from under a stack of shirts he barely ever wears. He'd wrapped them in Ninja Turtles paper, because he'd seen it at Target and couldn't resist. He looks up and sees Shane's wide eyes. 

"You got me presents?" His voice is adorably soft and excited. Ryan feels his heart clench. "Like, real presents?"

"Yeah, buddy," he says, walking over to the bed. He sits across from Shane, whose face is open and bright. God, he was so freaking cute. "I picked them out just for you." He hands over the package that holds coloring supplies. "Start with this one."

Shane rips into it, and Ryan sees the moment he gets a good look, because his face lights up. "You bought me a coloring book?" he says. It’s a Batman one, and Shane looks adorably excited. "And the _big_ box of crayons?"

Ryan had felt slightly silly when he'd bought it, but right now, looking at Shane's delighted face, he is glad he'd sprung for the giant box of crayons. 

"Yeah, buddy, do you like it?" Ryan asks. Shane’s grinning, and he yells a loud, "Yes!" and puts them on the bed before he launches himself at Ryan. Ryan finds himself quite grateful for his gym routine when he manages to catch him before they both tumble ass-over-teakettle off the end of the bed.

"I always wanted the big box of crayons," Shane mumbles in his ear, and Ryan isn’t even sure if he is meant to hear that, or if Shane had meant to say it out loud. 

"How come you never bought one?" Ryan asks. He feels Shane shrug in his arms.

"Didn't...I dunno. Didn't really need crayons, 'specially not 120 of them, did I?" 

And that isn’t exactly little Shane, but it isn’t adult Shane either.

"Well, bud, they're yours now so I hope you find a good use for them," Ryan says. "It's a pretty big coloring book; I didn't want you to run out of crayons."

Shane smiles. "I don't think I'm gonna run out," he says. "Thank you, Ry."

"You're welcome big guy," Ryan says. "Here. This one next." He hands him the sippy cup. He'd decided to wrap one, and had put the other in the plastic shoebox he'd bought specifically to keep a couple things for little Shane at his house, just in case.

Shane opens it, and cocks his head to the side. "You got me...a sippy cup?" he says. It’s hard for Ryan to read his voice, but the face is an interesting mix of curiosity and anxiety. And Shane doesn’t spend a lot of time being visibly anxious. "'M too big for a sippy cup," he protests quietly.

The voice, however, tells Ryan something very different. Shane is feeling little, and he really wants the cup. Which is good, because Ryan had bought it for him.

"You're my little boy," he says, "and you're not too big for a sippy. And look--it's got pirates on it. And I know you like pirates."

Shane examines the cup, which looks pretty small in his hand. The biggest one he could find holds 12 ounces, which he figures is at least a normal serving of liquid. His eyes look at Ryan through his eyelashes. "I do like pirates," he says softly. "You're not making fun of me?" 

He sounds ridiculously vulnerable. "No, sweetheart," Ryan says softly. "I wouldn't make fun when it mattered."

This must seem right to Shane, because he melts back against the wall, looking more relaxed. "Thank you," he says softly. "Um… Can I have some juice, please? And…uh, use my new cup?"

Ryan smiles. "You can, but I've got one more thing for you first. And uh, I've just made an executive decision. Close your eyes. I want you to unwrap it with your eyes closed."

"Okay," Shane says obediently, closing his eyes and holding out his hands. "How long do I have to keep them closed?"

"Until I say to open them," Ryan says. He gently puts the box in Shane's hands, and Shane tears the paper off. It’s uncoordinated, and there are bits of wrapping paper strewn over Ryan’s bed. 

"Okay, sweetie, let me help with this part," Ryan says, carefully easing the teal pacifier from the box. Shane's eyes are squeezed tightly shut. "Remember, keep your eyes closed," he says, "and open your mouth a little."

He sees Shane take a deep breath and obediently open his mouth a little bit. Ryan is struck again by how much Shane is willing to trust him. "Good boy," he murmurs, and gently pops the pacifier into his mouth. He hears Shane sigh out his nose.

Shane really likes being praised and reassured, Ryan notes. 

"Okay honey," he says. "I'm going to go get you your juice. You can open your eyes, but I want you to leave the binky in your mouth until I get back."

Shane's eyes pop open, and Ryan sees his mouth start to open, so he pushes gently against the button of the pacifier with his fingertip. "Just try it for me, Shane," he coaxes. "Just 'til I come back with your juice."

Shane nods shakily, and Ryan says, "You're being such a brave boy for me, sweetheart. I'm proud of you. I'll be right back."

It might be the fastest speed run he's ever made to the kitchen, even faster than the time he'd realized that he'd left bacon sizzling on the stove after he'd gotten in the shower and bolted, naked and sudsy, through the house to get the burning pan off the stove top. He’s a little clumsy when he unscrews the cup and (thank God) they've actually got a jug of non-alcoholic apple cider in the fridge. He twists the lid back on and is immediately grateful for the sippy cup when he fumbles it and it skitters across the counter. Not a drop spilled though, which gets a grin out of him.

Then he thinks of little Shane and whatever feelings he might be having about the pacifier, and he books it back to his bedroom.

Shane is sitting there quietly, the binky still in his mouth, apparently sucking on it, or maybe chewing a little. In his hand, he's got a second one from the box (it's black) and he's examining it with his hands. 

His eyes look a little shiny. "Hey buddy," Ryan says softly. "You okay?"

Shane nods, then shakes his head, then shrugs. And then, suddenly, there are actual tears escaping Shane's eyes, and oh God, Ryan didn't think that was a thing that was going to happen today. 

In a flash, he's at Shane's side, sitting next to him on the bed and wrapping his arm around Shane's back. "Honey, you can spit it out if you don't like it," he says But Shane shakes his head, even as tears are rolling down his face. Ryan gently grabs the ring of the pacifier and takes it from Shane's mouth. "Sweetheart, please tell me what's wrong," he said. "Do you need a minute? Do you need to cry uncle?"

And then, Shane's freaking knuckle is being shoved back into his mouth and he shakes his head, a hard 'no'. Even though Ryan can't understand what's happening here, he can't help the exasperated laugh. 

"Oh my God Shane, please use the pacifier, honey. Your knuckle is icky," he says, offering it in the general direction of Shane's mouth and sending prayers to the universe that Shane will take it.

Listen, Shane was holding that communal controller not twenty minutes ago. God only knows what kind of nasty germs the other Frat Pack guys have left on there.

Apparently the universe is listening, because Shane easily takes it back. "Good boy," Ryan breathes out, relieved. He really needs to take a Clorox wipe to those fucking controllers, now that he's thinking about it.

"What do you need, honey?" He wonders if Shane can see how panicked he feels about this unexpected outcome. "Can you tell me?"

And then Shane's practically climbing on his lap, and Ryan somehow manages to swallow a grunt when one of Shane's bony elbows digs into his thigh. Shane is really, objectively too large for this, but Ryan is a sucker. He manages to slide Shane down so his top half is cuddled on Ryan's lap, like that night on the _ Unsolved _ set. This is apparently acceptable to Shane, who grabs a handful of his shirt. Another tear is rolling down his cheek, and he's sniffling a little from the congestion that comes with crying.

The pacifier is firmly in place though. He can actually hear Shane sucking on it. He runs his fingers through Shane's hair, another thing he knows Shane likes. "Okay. Okay. I don't know what all that was, but we'll figure it out, buddy," he says. He studies Shane's face.

It's still open. God, it's so open, like he really is a toddler. There are tears on his lashes still, even though he pressed his face against Ryan's shirt, but his eyes are wide and sweet. He's cuddled up, and Ryan's got one hand playing with his hair and the other gently patting his chest. 

He's surprised when Shane mumbles,"It was just a lot," around the pacifier still in his mouth.

Ryan takes a breath. It occurs to him that he hasn't exactly been breathing properly. "A lot of feelings?" Ryan speculates, because he's not a moron.

He just doesn't like watching his little cry like that, like Ryan's traumatizing him. This is supposed to be fun, it's supposed to be safe, sane, and consensual. An extremely upset little when Ryan expected nothing like that? 

That's scary for Ryan. That's scary as shit.

"Yeah," Shane said, and his voice is so tiny. "I...I didn't know what to do."

"What kind of feelings, honey?" Ryan asks. Listen, Shane is from the Midwest. They have snow in lieu of feelings there. But also, Shane is currently in little space. So maybe he'll get something.

"It's nice," Shane said. "I like the binky." He's chewing on it even as he talks. "And you said I was a good boy."

"You _ are _ a good boy," Ryan said, stroking Shane's hair. "Was that part nice?"

Shane nods, and his face is pink with a shyness he only gets in little space. He can't even remember the last time he saw that on Shane, the grown up.

"But you shook your head too. What part wasn't nice?" He'll get it out of him word-by-word if he has to. 

And the tears are back, welling up in Shane's eyes again but not spilling yet. 

"It's weird, Ry," he whispers around the binky that he won't spit out. "'m a grown up, and now I have a binky, and that's weird."

"Oh, Shane," he says. "Sweetheart, you're okay. You're not going to pop it in your mouth and go get groceries or head off to work. It's for you, when you need comfort. For when you're little." Very carefully, he pushes on the pacifier until it is seated in Shane's mouth so he can't speak well around it. "And right now, I just see a little boy. Not a grown up."

Shane's eyes are still anxious. Ryan strokes his hair like a cat. "You want some juice, sweetie?" 

Shane takes a deep breath, then nods. Ryan can feel him try to sit up, but Ryan's hand is on his chest, and he pushes down in a way that he hopes tells Shane to lay still. And it must, because Shane settles.

He reaches back to the place where he carelessly tossed the juice, but the blanket is still dry. He removes the paci from Shane's mouth, drops it on the bed, and gently offers the sippy cup. He sees Shane hesitate, going a little more pink.

“Come on, sweetie,” Ryan coaxes softly. “Let me take care of you. I’ve got you.”

Shane’s tongue sneaks out and licks at his lip, and then he opens his mouth and lets Ryan ease the spout of the cup in. His eyes close.

His whole face is flushed, but he looks peaceful and sweet, just laying there and letting Ryan feed him. It's a whole new level of intimate. "Good boy," Ryan whispers, God, Shane looks beautiful like this, trusting Ryan with everything in him. Trusting that Ryan will take care of him. Trusting that Ryan has things under control.

There just isn't a lot of juice in there for someone Shane's size though, and it doesn't take very long for him to finish. Reluctantly, Ryan pulls the sippy away. 

"How do you feel now, Shane?" Ryan asks. "Better with something in your tummy?"

He feels Shane squirm on his lap, which is basically a surefire sign something Ryan had said made him feel some kind of way. Ryan tucks the sentence in the back of his brain for later.

"Uh-huh," Shane says in that same, little voice. "'m sorry I scared you, Ry. Didn't mean to."

"I know, buddy," he replies. 

Shane turns, his hand reaching, groping along the surface of the bed. It doesn't take long before he finds a pacifier. He holds it up in front of his face.

Ryan watches him play with it gently in his hands. "That goes in your mouth, big guy," he says softly, as though Shane might have forgotten. 

He sees Shane smile a little and gently put it in his mouth.

"There we go," he coos, and he has no idea where it came from. Shane actually blushes, curling down with a smile behind the binky. 

Apparently, the condescension is good for more than just punishments.

He gently runs his fingers through Shane's hair, and Shane sighs. His eyes close again.

He looks so peaceful and trusting, and Ryan's chest actually aches with it.

"That's my boy," he says softly.

This is the best freaking idea he's ever had.


	2. The Line (or Lack Thereof)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows directly from the previous chapter.
> 
> Disclaimers:
> 
> This uses the names/likenesses of real people, but it is completely fictional. This is based on a fictional reading of the media personas of the people within and has no connection to the actual people, places, company, or events referenced. It's all fictional, in a fictional universe.
> 
> This is not a how-to guide for BDSM. Do your own research if you wish to get involved in the BDSM scene.

Shane takes his new presents and a hug from Ryan (and he's decided that basically the greatest thing about the whole weird thing they're doing is that Ryan will hug him without reservation now, because Ryan gives awesome hugs) and drives back home.

He's mildly self-conscious of the innocuous little bag sitting in his passenger seat. It's literally just a Target bag, and it's got his sippy cup, two pacifiers, a coloring book, and a huge box of crayons inside. Literally the only thing in there that might raise an eyebrow is the adult-sized pacifiers. 

Listen, he's an adult. As long as he doesn't run into someone who knows he doesn't have kids, he kind of looks like he could be a dad. Beanie, flannel, clear glasses? It's basically the 'young hipster dad' checklist.

But also, if he's realistic, who on Earth is going to see what's in that bag? Only maybe Sara, if he can get past his unwarranted embarrassment to show her. So really, it's a non-issue, unless he gets in a car accident on the way home. And then it's not his problem anymore anyway, since he'll be dead and all. Can't embarrass a dead guy, no matter what Ryan says.

Is he going to tell Sara about this? Is it too weird for her? 

He tries to imagine what he would feel in Sara's place, if she had a friend who was doing this little stuff with her. He feels himself smile at the idea of Sara sucking a binky. She's cute, so it would be cute, but it doesn't really match her. Same with a sippy cup. It's hard to picture unless he mentally pours wine in it. 

That seems like something his fanciful yet practical girlfriend would do. Can't spill it that way, at least.

Then again, it's pretty hard for him to separate out his own willingness to do this thing from the idea of Sara doing it. Of course, if she wanted to do something similar he'd support her; it would be ridiculous of him not to. The question isn't what he feels about the sippy cup and pacifiers, because he (or at least, the little part of him) likes them. But will she feel the same? Or is she going to decide that she can't have a romance with a dude who also has moments where he likes sippy cups and binkies?

If he's going to be fair, she's been nothing but supportive so far. Enthusiastic, even. He knows that she's got that picture from Curly hidden away on her phone, and when Ryan had texted earlier asking if he was free, she'd shooed him away with a quick, "Go play with Ryan, babe. You'll have fun. I'm just going to spend the night drawing and like, checking up on my Twitter feed." 

The thing about Sara is that she is unabashedly who she is, and she really, honestly believes that everyone else should be too. And she hasn't flinched yet. In fact, she has supported Shane while he flinches.

She's much braver than he is.

Ah, hell. He really doubts that this will be the thing that pushes her over the edge. They've come this far.

It's late enough that his drive home is quiet and unremarkable. He grabs his bag and goes into the house.

Sara's curled up on the couch in pajama pants and a sweater that had once been his until she commandeered it and stretched the neck all to hell. Her stylus flies across the surface of her iPad. The instrumental music in the background tells him that she's been trying to Create. "Hey babe," she says. "Have fun at Ryan's?" 

"Yeah," Shane says. He kicks off his shoes and folds up next to her on the couch.

"What did you guys get up to?" She's still sketching away, but she glances over at him when she asks, and there's interest in her face.

"We played Smash Bros for awhile," he says, "until that dirty rotten cheater, Ryan Bergara, started losing and couldn't do it with dignity."

She laughs. "Did he spank you again?" Her voice is amused, but it's amused with him, not at him. "He's going mad with power."

Shane laughs too. "Nah, I've made it home unspanked," he replies. "It was very chill, actually." Listen to him, he's starting to talk like Ryan, the original SoCal boy.

"You did something, though," she points out. "You've got that soft, ooey-gooey look to your face again.

Shane is surprised to learn that he has an "ooey-gooey" face-look. "What, really?" he asks. He touches his own cheek, as though he might feel the difference. His face feels normal, if slightly rough from his 5 o'clock shadow. "Like how?"

She puts her tablet down and studies him frankly. "I don't know, exactly," she says after a moment. "You just look softer somehow. Younger, maybe?"

"You only say that because you know," Shane says. "You'd never look at me and go, 'oh, yeah, Shane's ageing backwards. De-ageing. He's found the fountain of youth.'"

She shrugs. "Yeah, you're probably right," she agrees easily. "But it does make you look different. Relaxed, at least."

"Hmm," Shane says. It does make him feel relaxed, he'll give her that much.

Sara peers over his lap where the Target bag is wrapped around his fingers. "You stopped at Target on the way home? Without me?" 

He laughs, because Sara loves Target. "I wouldn't do that to you," he offers. And now is the moment of truth. He takes a breath and plunges in. "Nah, Ryan bought me some presents."

She looks up at his face, plainly curious. "That was nice of him," she says. "What'cha get?" 

His stomach flutters nervously, and he suddenly feels the urge to hide the bag. Which, if that was his plan, he really ought to have left it in the car. But also, he doesn't hide things from Sara. The last time he'd hidden something from her, it had been her birthday present and he'd had a hell of a time being patient and waiting to give it to her. 

"Um, I know we're talked about this before, but I, uh…just want to know. How weird is too weird?" The butterflies in his stomach have upped their tempo. "Like, with this thing between me and Ryan. Where is the line of, 'Wow, Shane, that's just too weird,' where you're done?"

Her eyes meet his, and her expression is sympathetic. "Feeling insecure again?" 

He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. She's pretty good at reading him. They're pretty good at reading each other, really; they've been together a pretty long time. "Yeah, probably," he admits.

She doesn't just answer him right away, which makes him feel better, because it tells him that she's considering it, considering if there is a line that's too weird for her to handle. If she'd just blurted out an answer, he thinks he wouldn't have trusted it.

"Well, I don't know that I know the answer to that," she says finally. "I mean, I'm trying to think of something. I suppose, theoretically, there might be one somewhere. But I don't know what it would be. You're an ethical person, so like, I'm not worried that you and Ryan are going to do something ethically sketchy. So it's really that you think you might make a choice that I hate, but like, you can do that if you want. You get to be your own man." 

"I mean, choices you hate are one thing. I know you're not a fan of that orange pillow I have," he says. She makes a face at the mention of said orange pillow. He's had it since college. It's fucking hideous, which is why he loves it.

"I respect your choices, even if they suck," she replies. She nudges against him. "Whatever you're thinking about, it's probably not the line, dear. I don't know what Ryan could pick up at Target that would be too weird."

He's not sure if he feels better or not. He probably should, but he's still wondering.

Also, the pacifiers weren't from Target, exactly, so there's that.

She nudges him again. "You look like you're really overthinking this, babe. I'm telling you, the line isn't something you can buy. Why, did Ryan get you diapers or something?"

Shane freezes as her words hit him like a sucker punch, because 1, he was not ready for the idea of _ diapers _. And 2, why the godforsaken hell would her brain go there? 

Also, 3, _ that's not the line? _Shane's pretty sure that's his own, personal line at least!

"Oh my God, did he?" She laughs, but it's not mean or mocking. She sounds stoked, like she thinks she guessed right. "I was 50/50 over whether that might be something you'd consider, but I really didn't think a month would be enough time for you to get over yourself enough to do it."

"No!" Shane croaks. "Jesus, Sara, no! What the hell?" He still feels winded by her question, but he manages to at least spit out that rebuttal, poor as it is.

She shrugs, unapologetic. "I read up on the little stuff some more," she admits. "It didn't seem totally impossible. Maybe a little fast, but like, Ryan throws himself into everything he does, and you've always tended to follow him, so I figured if he asked..."

And that last bit is way too much for Shane to unpack right now, so he just ignores it. The part that he's stuck on is that Sara's been doing some quiet homework.

"You read up on it more?" Shane's voice still feels weird in his throat, like he's trying to catch his breath. "When? _ Why _?"

She gives him a look like she thinks he's being kind of dense. "Knowledge is power, babe. How the hell am I supposed to be supportive if I don't know anything about what I'm supporting? At least I knew a little bit about BDSM, but the little thing was totally new to me. Hence, reading."

That's sensible enough, and also a very Sara answer. She isn't as research-crazed as Ryan, but she tends to do a thorough job.

"Oh," he says, and he feels pretty stupid, because her logic is sound and instead of embracing the whole 'knowledge is power' thing he's just…avoided it, more than a little afraid of what he might find. 

Her eyes narrow playfully at him. "You didn't do any more research, did you?" she asks. "Do you want links to some of the stuff I was looking at? I saved them, since I figured you were doing that avoidant Midwestern thing."

"You know me so well," he says, but he can at least breathe. They're gonna be okay. He doesn't know what the weirdness line is either, but at this point, he's pretty sure that he and Ryan won't cross it. Not if she can just casually throw the idea of diapers out there like that.

He really did find an amazing woman.

Her eyes dart back to the bag. "You don't have to tell me," she says. "Or show me, or whatever. But if you want to, I'm super curious." She looks genuinely hopeful.

"Well, it's not diapers," Shane says, and thank god that his usual, dry manner is back. He reaches in and pulls out the coloring book and crayons. Her eyes light up.

"Ooh, he got you the big box," she says, taking it reverently. "You know he loves you!" 

Shane laughs, because honestly, he'd felt the same way. She flips open the coloring book, and comes to a page where Batman is fighting the Joker. Shane had made a valiant attempt to improve the fighters' sartorial choices, and Sara's little grin says she approves. "I like the buffalo check batsuit," she says. "Very on-brand."

"You might notice that the Joker is wearing Air Force Ones," Shane adds. 

"The snapback is a nice touch," Sara says approvingly.

When he'd been shown the picture, Ryan had thrown his head back and laughed before swatting Shane on the hip and calling him, "brat," in a very fond tone. He'd also taken a photo of it with his phone and said, "I don't really have a fridge to put it on, buddy, but I'll make a file called the fridge in my phone. Will that do?" 

Shane had thought that would do nicely.

It had been mildly surreal to sit at the table in the Frat House kitchen, eat cookies, and color, but it had also been weirdly fun. He'd enjoyed having Ry's deliberate, undivided attention

Sara gently opens the box and sniffs at it. "I love that new crayon smell," she says. She closes the box carefully and sets it on top of the coffee table with the coloring book. 

"Well, I know you didn't think that was the line of weird," she says. "So what else did he buy you?"

This is a little bit harder. He must look nervous, because she says, "I'm with you to the end of the line, babe. And it's like, a long-ass line. You're good."

She's quoting the MCU. His heart swells with love for her. It's the last bit of a push he needs to do this.

He pulls out the sippy cup. It's clearly for a small child, in varying shades of baby-blue and orange with a spout and some child-appropriate pirate illustrations printed on a treasure map backdrop. It's dwarfed by his hand.

Sara smiles. "That's cute," she says, with all signs pointing to sincerity. "Ryan picked that out for you?"

Shane nods and hands it to her. She checks out the illustrations printed on the plastic sides, then unscrews the top. It's clean though, because Ryan insisted on washing and drying it before he sent it home with Shane so it didn't grow mold.

"Kinda like the pirates," he admits quietly. 

"Was that really so embarrassing for you? It's not that weird, Shane." In her hands, the cup looks a much more normal size. "It's like a to-go cup for kids. And littles," she adds belatedly.

He hadn't thought of that, but she's kind of right. It doesn't look that unlike a small travel mug for coffee, except for the longer spout and childish design. "I guess," he says. He thinks about laying in Ryan's lap, gently being fed apple juice while Ryan looked at him like he was something adorable and precious. He can feel a tiny hint of a flush touch his face. "But uh… There's one more thing. Well, two more things, but they're kind of the same thing so…" he trails off, his hand holding the plastic bag tight.

He thinks about her, doing research and being quietly (and sometimes loudly and enthusiastically) supportive. It hits him suddenly that yeah, this is weird, but Shane's weird too, and so is Sara, and she loves him. She loves his weirdness. It's part of what drew then together in the first place. This… This is not gonna be their line.

He reaches back into the bag and draws out a pacifier. It's the teal one, and he likes it for its color, likes it more than its black and white counterparts. Ryan had kept the black one ("I mean, you'll be back Shane,") and a second sippy cup. He'd put them in a plastic shoebox that he'd pinkie-promised had never held shoes and tucked them away under a stack of tee shirts.

He stares at it in his hands. It's not impressive, or scary, or anything, really. It's just a pacifier, with a plastic cap that clips over the nipple for storage so that it doesn't get linty. Slowly, he manages to meet Sara's eyes.

She's smiling at him, sweet and encouraging. "Well, put it in your mouth," she urges.

He hadn't thought she'd want to see it. His stomach flutters nervously. He really needs to stop underestimating her.

"Don't take a picture," he warns her. 

"I won't," she promises. "I mean, you don't have to show me. But I'd like to see."

He looks at her. She's really, honestly excited for him, he realizes, and it loosens something in his chest. 

"I'm not even, like, little right now," Shane protests half-heartedly. He already knows he's gonna do it.

"Please Shane?" she wheedles gently. It's really cute, actually, that she's happy for him. With a sigh, he puts it in his mouth, feeling a little silly.

He really does like it though. Even though he's not feeling little, it's kind of nice. It fits comfortably in his mouth, shaped so it won't fuck up his teeth, the silicone nipple smooth and flat against his tongue and soft palate.

She's studying him, an unbearably soft, fond look on her face. He meets her eyes, trying not to be embarrassed.

"Honestly, it's kind of cute, in a really weird way," Sara pronounces finally. Shane snorts and pulls the binky from his mouth.

"That was my weird line, babe," he says. "I'm assuming I didn't cross it?" The paci dangles from his index finger. He hunts for the cap and snaps it in place. It joins its match in the bag, which he drops on the table.

"That's nowhere near the line," she says, and it's reassuring even though he already knows. "Line's in a different area code. And I can see why Ryan looks at you like that."

"Like what?" Shane says. He hasn't exactly noticed Ryan looking at him any particular way.

"Like he adores you," she says. "Like you're one of his favorite people."

He hasn't thought of it that way. But also, he knows what she means. He spends a fair amount of his life editing. In his mind's eye, he can see Ryan's eyes crinkling at the corners, the big smile on his face. It's why half the internet assumes that they're secretly dating. Because they _ are _ one of each other's favorite people, and it shows on their faces. It's also why it takes forever to shoot a Post-mortem. Anytime they talk it turns into a damn party.

Since he can't deny it, he lifts the bag with the binkies and changes the subject. "So, where do I put this shit?"

Sara looks thoughtful. "I mean, you just want it out somewhere or do you want to hide it in like, a box or something?"

"It's a terrible decoration. Doesn't really fit the aesthetic we were going for. Do we have a box?" Shane asks. He's pretty sure that any boxes they have are already filled with important stuff. 

"I meant in a drawer, you dork. We might have to hit up Target for like, a special box or something if you'd rather do that," Sara says. "I've got a feeling that you'll probably accumulate more little stuff, because Ryan strikes me as the kind of Daddy who is gonna want to give you stuff."

Shane winces a little. "I'm definitely not calling him Daddy, Sara. Too weird." The internet has completely ruined him, because that's 100% a word that he associates with terrifying, sex-related YouTube comments before anything else.

She looks at him mischievously. "I mean, call him whatever you like," she says, "but he's still doing the Daddy thing with you. I see it."

"Whatever," Shane says. "He's just Ry." They already have enough nicknames to keep track of; he sees no reason to add a new one. That's really more Ryan's thing anyway.

"Exactly," she says, as though he's proved her point. She stands and grabs the sippy cup from the table, then makes her way into the kitchen.

He watches. "Ryan washed that already," he says.

She glances over her shoulder at him. Said shoulder is bare as the sweatshirt slips down her arm. God she's adorable. "I know. He's a very finicky man. Can't imagine he'd send you off with an unwashed cup."

"Finicky? He'd love that," Shane says. He watches as she stands on her tiptoes, stretching to her full yet tiny height to grab a stack of mixing bowls. She gingerly pushes the cup to the back of the cabinet before replacing the bowl. 

"There," she says, grabbing the tea kettle from the stove. "You can reach it there, but our guests shouldn't run into it. I don't really like the idea of leaving it in like, a sock drawer or something. Seems kind of unsanitary."

"Ok, but what if someone does find it?" he asks. Sara shrugs.

"We do have friends with kids," she points out, and she's right. They're real adults, with real friends who have small children. "We just haven't gotten a chance to return it yet, or whatever. You being little isn't the first conclusion anyone's going to come to."

His stomach settles. "Okay," he says. She knows him, knows how to smooth his rumpled edges.

"It's not something to be ashamed of, Shane," she says, matter-of-fact. "I mean, you get to keep it private, and like, there's a time and a place, but it's not a dirty little secret either. It's not like you spend your spare time doing something horrible. It's basically like playing video games, or knitting, or something."

"It's a little less mainstream than video games,": he points out mildly. He does understand what she's saying though. The kettle whistles, and she lifts it from the burner.

"You want a cup of tea?"

Shane nods. "Sure, thanks." She reaches up into a different cupboard to grab two mugs.

"I know it's harmless," Shane says, and he does. he's really starting to feel that, deep inside. But also… "Maybe if I weren't a Z-list celebrity, it wouldn't worry me. I just… If the fans found out...I don't want to be internet famous for being a little, you know? It's weird enough seeing, 'Hey there demons, it's me, ya boy," on random internet pages. I'm not sure I could handle, like, pictures of me with a paci in my mouth." He shakes his head.

"Well, that's not going to happen," Sara says. "I mean, pacifiers are an indoor activity. I don't think Ryan's gonna sell you out."

"Yeah, I know," he says. "Mutually assured destruction and all that."

"Well, and I don't know if this will make you feel better, but there's already a greater-than-zero percent chance that a photo manip of you with a pacifier in your mouth exists somewhere, because the internet."

Shane drops his head into his hand. "Did you see it already?" he asks, resigned.

Sara laughs and shakes her head. "Just stay where the light touches, Simba," she intones in a terrible imitation of James Earl Jones. "The internet is a dark and scary place."

"It really fucking is sometimes," Shane agrees.

Sara carries in two cups and hands him one. 

"Thanks," he says, and takes a sip. The chamomile seeps into his taste buds, cozy and nice. She curls up next to him and sets her head on his shoulder. 

"I mean, it's hardly the most interesting thing about you," she says. "There's plenty of other, more interesting things. Like you being part of the Bigfoot clan." Her fingernails trace through his arm hair, and he shivers as goosebumps rise. She rubs her hand apologetically over his arm.

"Or your impressive history obsession. Your French people who danced themselves to death. You ever going to make a video about that?"

"They're not _ my _ French people, but I don't know. Maybe, when the time is right," he answers. "I've been thinking about a new series, actually, although I don't know if I want to include the dancing thing."

"Gotta save a good one like that for the proper moment," she agrees sagely. 

"Maybe, if they greenlight another season of _ Supernatural _, Ryan and I can go hunt down another cryptid. My vote is for the Yeti, because I'd derive a lot of happiness from watching Ryan shiver and bitch about the cold up in Alaska or something." He smiles, just thinking of Ryan wrapped in 700 layers of down and wool yet still whining.

"He'll never agree to that," Sara says. "You'll be better off trying for something warmer. There has to be some kind of cryptid that lives in Hawaii, right?"

"I don't know," Shane replies. "I'm not up on my Hawaiian cryptid lore."

She laughs and leans back into him. "You'll always be my favorite cryptid," she says.

"Aw, that's so sweet," he says. "You'll be mine, too. The Littlefoot to my Bigfoot."

She extends her leg to compare their foot sizes and nods. "Acceptable."

They can be ridiculously sappy together, in their own, weird way. Shane loves it.

They drink their tea. He finishes his first, and sets the empty mug on the table. Then he wraps both arms around Sara's waist, pulling her closer.

She smells good, the scent of her shampoo mixing nicely with the dregs of her tea. She finishes it with an unladylike slurp and nudges his hand with her empty cup, which he moves to the table. Her hands come up to hold his arms where they're wrapped around her waist. He can see down the neck of her stretched-out sweatshirt, and it gives him a pretty awesome view. 

Sara tilts her head up and sees him looking. She laughs, and brings one hand up to pull his head down so she can kiss him full on the mouth. There's some tongue action. "Wanna have sex before bed?" she asks.

Shane grins. "Hell yeah," he says. Fuck, he really loves her.

All-in-all, it's been a pretty damn good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to read meta or chat with the author, hit me up at littlebunnywrites.tumblr.com


	3. Keep Your Hands to Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing has really changed between the boys at work. 
> 
> Well, that's what Ryan thinks. Turns out...people notice things.
> 
> Gossip moves at the speed of Buzzfeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:
> 
> This uses the names/likenesses of real people, but it is completely fictional. This is based on a fictional reading of the media personas of the people within and has no connection to the actual people, places, company, or events referenced. It's all fictional, in a fictional universe.
> 
> This is not a how-to guide for BDSM. Do your own research if you wish to get involved in the BDSM scene.

Ryan's a little surprised by how little things actually change.

He’d somehow expected that with this new element to their relationship, something might be different between them at work. They’d agreed that they were going to keep it private, but even so...he’d expected to see at least hints of their new _ status _, for lack of a better term.

But Shane is still just Shane. They’ve started filming for True Crime now, so they aren’t on location. It’s just them and their crew, locked in the ‘office’ set and riffing on each other endlessly. They’re having fun. 

In their personal time, they continue to explore this new dynamic. Ryan’s happy to see Shane settling, becoming more comfortable with allowing Ryan to take care of him and introduce him to new experiences. And it’s going beautifully. Away from work, they’re closer than they have ever been, both as friends and as scene partners, for lack of a better term.

But at work, things haven’t changed a bit.

* * *

Devon can’t miss that something has changed between Ryan and Shane.

They’ve always been really great friends. They’ve always had a ridiculous chemistry; as long as she’s known them, they’ve felt like two peas in a pod. But now, there’s a comfort between them. It’s a different energy, a new kind of softness.

“I’m an adult,” Shane says, “but sometimes--”

“Why did you start your sentence off with that? You said it in a weird way, with a weird cadence, like you don’t believe it.” Ryan has a gentle little smirk on his face that Shane is valiantly ignoring.

“I’m an adult, but sometimes I have the mind of a child,” Shane says, “and I think you can relate to that--”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan says. The grin is bigger, and Ryan looks at the camera like he’s sharing an inside joke with the audience. Devon cannot even imagine what that joke could be.

“”Because the whole time I’m hearing this...I don’t understand how radiation poisoning works. I don’t know what you’re envisioning here. I’m envisioning, essentially, a green glow stick.”

She watches them elaborate on how this poor Russian spy may have been poisoned. They’ve always got good banter, but sometimes it's harder-edged. Not lately though.

“What is this, ooze-long tea?” Shane asks, and then he starts laughing. She sees Ryan roll his eyes, but then his face softens as Shane continues to giggle madly.

“Okay, you can keep going,” Shane says, but the laughter is still coming. 

Ryan’s face is exceptionally fond as he says, “I don’t think you’re done laughing at your own joke. You want some more time?” His voice is strangely soft, considering that this is a funny little bit. He’d usually be trying to escalate it, but instead, he just seems to be watching Shane’s face.

“You didn’t poison this, did you?” Shane asks, pointing at his coffee mug, still giggly. Ryan shakes his head.

“I wish I did now,” he says, very obviously insincere. Suddenly, Ryan’s right arm is moving, and he smacks Shane’s leg under the table. Shane yelps.

“Ryan, come on! It’s a great pun,” Shane protests. “You laughed too!”

“You’re right, big guy,” Ryan says. "Congrats on your terrible wordplay." He’s watching Shane, his eyes crinkled with amusement. She’s never seen him look quite like this before.

It’s odd, because on the surface, nothing is really that different. But she can feel the energy change between them and she can’t help but wonder _ why _ things are different now between the Ghoul Boys.

* * *

They’re putting equipment away after finishing their latest shoot when Devon says, “Hey Mark, have you noticed something different about Ryan and Shane?”

Mark continues folding up the tripod. “Different how?” he asks. He can’t say that he has, really, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He tends to stay quiet and mind his own business.

“They’ve got a different energy,” Devon says. “Have you noticed?”

Mark doesn’t roll his eyes, because he’s used to Devon and her beliefs about energy and vibes and all that hippie-dippy shit. “Can’t say I have,” he says. He tucks the tripod under one arm, and holds the camera in his other hand. “Gonna go put these in storage.”

Devon follows him. “No, really,” she says. “I know you don’t believe in that kind of thing, but there’s something different about them.”

Mark shrugs. “I didn’t bet in the pool,” he says, “so I don’t really care.” About a month and a half ago, someone started an office pool about when Shane and Ryan would end up, at the least, making out. So far, nobody’s won, but maybe Devon’s guessing that this new “energy” is coming from them finally crossing that line.

Mark doesn't really think so. He saw Shane and Sara come in this morning laughing together about something. They don't look like they're having troubles. They look really happy actually.

Devon shakes her head. “That pool is so stupid,” she says. “Shane and Sara are basically the perfect couple. There’s no way that’s going to break up.”

Mark shrugs again. “Doesn’t have to break up,” he points out. “Cheating’s a thing.” But he doesn't believe it even as he says it. He feels mildly guilty for even suggesting it.

“No way,” Devon says. “The energy is way too pure for that. There’s no guilt there.”

Now Mark does roll his eyes. “You’re not actually a psychic,” he says. "I mean, I agree with you that no one's cheating, to be clear. But that's not energy. It's just paying attention to people."

“What do you think energy even is, Mark?,” Devon says. “I don't have to be psychic to believe in intuition, and I’m telling you, their energy has changed.”

They get to storage, and Mark signs the equipment back in, putting it in its place. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “I didn’t notice anything. Maybe it's just because Ryan's spending all his time "third-wheeling" with Shane and Sara nowadays. People get closer."

Devon raises an eyebrow. “Just watch,” she says. “I’ll bet you see it too, once you look. They're different. Something is!"

Mark shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Dev.” 

TJ comes in carrying another camera and tripod. “Leave the boys alone,” he orders gruffly. “That pool is a goddamn menace.”

“I’m not in the pool!” Devon protests. “I was just saying that they seem different, that’s all!” 

TJ shakes his head, slotting the tripod into its cubby. “Don’t give them a hard time,” he says. “I’m gonna guess they’re real tired of the gossip.”

Devon slumps. “I wasn’t really gossiping,” she says. “I’m just...invested.”

TJ gives her a look. “Well, be silently invested, then,” he says. “If something has changed between them, it’s none of our business unless they decide to share. Got it?”

He’s mostly talking to Devon, but Mark feels a little twinge in his stomach too. They both nod, because no one really argues with TJ.

But Mark decides that he’ll have to keep an eye out, quietly, and try to see what Devon sees.

* * *

Gadiel has just finished filming the latest video for _ Pero _ Like, and he heads to the kitchen. He’s _ hambriento _, because he’d been promised a food video, but it turns out that’s going to be filmed tomorrow. His stomach growls.

He walks in, and Shane and Ryan are in there. Shane’s got a coffee mug in hand, but Ryan’s holding a glass of water in his face.

“Drink it,” he says, and his tone is bossy. Gadiel expects Shane to laugh and say, “Fuck you,” in that joking way that he often does. Instead, he says, “Come on, Ryan. Three cups of coffee isn’t that much.” 

“Hey guys,” Gadiel says, walking towards them since they’re situated directly in front of the Keurig. He needs food too, _ pero el café primero _.

“Hey Gadiel,” Ryan says. “Want some coffee? Colombian dark roast.”

“Yeah, that was my plan,” Gadiel replies. Ryan wraps his hand around the mug that Shane is holding and gently pulls it away. Shane lets out a small whine of protest, but releases it.

“Here,” Ryan offers, holding the still-steaming mug out to him. “He didn’t drink out of it.”

Gadiel feels his eyebrows go up. “Uh...Shane?” he asks. It’s not really up to Ryan, after all.

Shane looks slightly resigned. “It’s all yours, man,” he says. He takes the glass of water that Ryan offers. “Thank you,” he tells him. Ryan pats him on the back.

“It’s good for you,” he says.

Gadiel takes a sip of the coffee, which is black as sin and hot as hell. It reminds him _ un poco _ of his time in the Navy. “You on a new diet or something?” he asks. 

Ryan laughs, and Shane shakes his head. “Just cutting down caffeine,” he says. “Reluctantly. Very reluctantly.” 

“You’ll thank me later when you can actually sleep tonight,” Ryan says, and Shane sighs.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “You’re just bossy.”

Ryan snorts and backhands the side of Shane's leg up by his hip. “Watch it,” he says. Shane giggles. He fucking _ giggles _.

What the fuck? That is..._ es un poco raro _, even for these weirdos. Ryan doesn’t really like people touching him, so it’s weird seeing him just casually smacking his co-host. Is it possible…?

He thinks about his bet in the pool, which passed two weeks ago. Damn it, he should have known that it would take longer than he thought. Curly is going to be _ desagradable. _

“Come on, big guy,” Ryan says. “We've got some voice-over work to do.”

“See you later, Gadiel,” Shane says, and Ryan gives a little wave as they wander back into the office.

"Bye, guys," he says to their retreating backs.

Gadiel takes another deep drink from his coffee. _ Es muy extraordinario. _Maybe he should see if he can learn a little more, get the scuttlebutt.

* * *

“Yo, Curly,” Gadiel says, swinging around the edge of the desk and landing in the empty chair to his left. “_ Una pregunta para ti. _”

“_ S _ _ í señor _,” Curly replies, turning to face Gadiel.

In Spanish, Gadiel replies, “¿_ What’s up with the Unsolved boys? They’re acting differently. _”

Curly freezes. Shit; he’d promised Sara he’d keep it quiet.. “_ ¿Different how _?” he asks, also sticking to Spanish. Ryan might be half-Mexican, but his Spanish is pitiful, so it’s less likely that he’ll end up overhearing something. Curly deliberately turns back to his computer. If he’s not facing Gadiel, maybe that will help. Curly’s a terrible liar, and everyone knows it.

“_ I don’t know. I go into the kitchen, and they’re just...Shane just lets him boss him around. Ryan gave me _ ** _Shane's_ ** _ coffee. That’s weird, ¿no? _”

“_ Eh, it’s probably easier to go with what Ryan wants than argue with him. ¿You ever try to argue with that man? It’s like arguing with a goat _.” Curly, desperate for some kind of distraction, grabs his water bottle and takes a sip.

“_ Ryan smacked him on the ass _.”

Curly actually chokes, spilling water down his shirt. Next to him, Gadiel laughs. “_ No way _,” Curly says, hoping it’s convincing. He’s a little surprised, to be honest. He would have thought that they’d keep something like that to a more private venue. 

A little bit of cuddling late at night was one thing. This seemed like a step up.

Also, what the hell is it with these boys and the kitchen? There are plenty of relatively private places on campus if you just can’t wait. Are they exhibitionists? 

“_ ¿In the kitchen? _ ” he asks, because he can’t help himself. “ _ ¿You snuck up on them _?”

“_ No _ ,” Gadiel says. “ _ That’s why it’s so weird. He just did it, while I was standing right there _.”

“_ Oh my God _ ,” Curly says. They’re getting pretty bold. Apparently whatever arrangement they have between themselves and Sara, it’s going well. “ _ ¿Did anyone else see _?”

“_ Just me, man, _” Gadiel said. 

_ "Keep it that way. No seriously, Gadiel _," he says when Gadiel laughs at him. 

Gadiel shrugs. "_ I'll try, but you know how it is." _

Curly does know how it is. He really needs to talk to Sara. “I’ll be back in a little bit,” he says, switching back to English as he stands up from his desk.

“Report back!” Gadiel replies, laughing with that wide grin of his as Curly bolts for the art department.

Fuck. He’s got to get to her before the rumor does, or else he’s about to get an earful.

* * *

Sara's talking to Brittany, one of the intern video editors, about exactly what kind of aesthetic she's going for in her latest video when Curly comes up to her. He's slightly out of breath.

"Sara, _ querida _, can I talk to you for a minute?" His voice is sweet, like it usually is, but there's an undertone to it that's a little bit frantic.

Brittany melts backwards. "I'll check in with you on Slack," she murmurs before making herself scarce. 

Sara looks at Curly. "Are you okay?" He looks like he's seen a ghost.

He beckons her. "Come with me," he says, spinning on his heel. 

She follows Curly as he weaves through lines of desks before climbing the stairs. She has absolutely no idea what they're doing. 

And then they're down one of the lesser-used side halls, and she's more confused than ever. Nothing is even down here but a janitor's closet and one of the single occupancy gender-neutral bathrooms.

Curly ducks inside said bathroom, and Sara sighs and leans against the wall. He couldn't wait to pee until after he told her what was going on?

He sticks his head out. "Get in here," he says. His head disappears again.

She's slightly taken aback. She looks left and right, but no one's around, so she goes inside.

"Lock the door," Curly says, and she does. He's sitting on one side of the wide vanity counter that surrounds the sink, and she stands in front of him.

"Alright, now that all the spy shit is out of the way…" she says. "What is going on with you?"

Curly is worrying the string of his Baja jacket. "I just want to let you know that I didn't say anything," he says. "Honestly, I didn't. I heard it from Gadiel, who saw it with his own two eyes."

Sara takes a breath, wondering what on Earth the boys have done now. They've gotten a lot more comfortable with each other over the last couple of months, and it shows. She's even heard whispers of rumors that the old betting pool about when Ryan and Shane would end up kissing (or more) was back in action…and that hasn't been a thing since she and Shane started dating.

"What happened now?" she asks. The BuzzFeed gossip mill is probably churning away at full speed, and she wants to be prepared.

Curly gives a put-upon sigh. "Apparently, Ryan smacked Shane's ass in front of God and everyone," he says.

Sara rolls her eyes. "When you say everyone…" It's been a couple of weeks since they'd last gotten to hang out one on one, and apparently, it's been too long.

She's gonna tear a strip off of Ryan. Shane's got a cute little ass, but they're gonna run afoul of HR if he does this at work.

_ In _ public _ at work _ , she amends. She knows it all started on the _ Unsolved _set, but they've kept it at home ever since.

"Well, okay, just in front of Gadiel, but he was in the Navy. He loves a good gossip almost more than I do. And you didn't wring any promises out of him!" Curly actually looks distressed.

She feels a little bad for him. "Alright, relax," she says. "I'm not mad at you."

Curly raises an eyebrow. "'At me'? Sounds like you're mad at someone."

She's not mad, not exactly. She's exasperated with Ryan, Mr. 'let's keep this quiet at work' Bergara. 

One thing this isn't gonna be is quiet. Gossip moves at the speed of BuzzFeed.

"Please don't feed into this," she tells Curly. "I know Ryan's a moron, but I want to figure out how we're going to play this."

"Oooh," Curly says. "Ryan's gonna get it!" He laughs. "But yes, a promise is a promise. I'll play dumb." He holds out his pinkie.

She hooks hers into his. "Thanks, Curly," she says. "I know I'm asking a lot of you."

And she does, because she knows how much Curly loves to be the source of new gossip.

"All I ask is that when you threaten Ryan's life, please bring up '_la chancla_," he says. Sara shakes her head.

"I'm not familiar," she says. Curly points down at her semi-professional, cute pink sandals.

"In Latino culture, it's a powerful weapon for discipline," he says. "Take that off and brandish it at him like you're thinking about beating his ass with it." Curly lets out a mildly evil chuckle. "You ever want to see a grown man grovel, it's a powerful tool."

Sara raises her eyebrows even as she laughs at the idea of tough guy Ryan Bergara being cowed via sandal. "I'll consider it," she says.

"I'm telling you, _ chica _, try it." Curly hops off the counter. "I've got to go. Just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Thanks again," she replies and he lets himself out. Immediately she locks the door again and pulls her phone from her back pocket.

* * *

> ** _Sara Rubin: get your asses up to the second floor single occupancy right now. The one by the janitor closet._ **
> 
> ** _Shane Madej: Both of us?_ **
> 
> ** _Sara Rubin: Now. Since Ryan couldn't keep his damn hands to himself._ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: Yes ma'am_ **
> 
> ** _Shane Madej: 😅 coming now_ **

* * *

Ryan looks at him, eyes wide. "What did I do?" He sounds actually confused. "What does she mean I couldn't keep my hands to myself?"

Shane shrugs. "I dunno. But my mother always told me to never keep a lady waiting."

They move through BuzzFeed fast; it's nearly lunchtime, so it's not that busy away from the food areas. They take the stairs two at a time, and Ryan hangs a hard right; Shane follows at his heels. He's quick for someone with stubby legs.

He sees Ryan steel himself in front of the bathroom door before giving a quick knock. "Sara?" he says quietly.

The door opens, and Ryan squeezes in. Shane follows closely, and locks the door behind.

Sara's standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. Shane glances at Ryan, who is too tan to really go pale, but instead looks mildly gray around the edges.

Shane has to hold back a snicker. Sara's a full head shorter than Ryan, but Ryan looks like he's bracing himself.

Maybe Shane should be worried too, but honestly, this is much too funny for him to worry yet. And anyway, he wasn't the one who got called out by name.

"What did I do?" Ryan asks, his voice low.

Sara raises one eyebrow. "Heard a really interesting rumor not so long ago," she says conversationally. "Don't suppose you can guess what it is?" She's not mad exactly, Shane can tell, but she's ready to let Ryan squirm a little.

Ryan shrugs, but the casualness is a facade. "No?" It sounds like a question.

"Does the name Gadiel del Orbe mean anything to you?" 

Ryan blinks, if anything looking more confused. "Uh…"

"Did you _ seriously _ smack Shane's ass in the kitchen directly in front of Gadiel, Ryan? Didn't you say you wanted to keep this thing private?" Her voice isn't loud, but it's definitely a little annoyed. "Because let me tell you, I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed, guys."

Shane feels his eyes widen at the same time that Ryan's do. "Oh shit," Shane says. He honestly hadn't thought about it at the time, but yeah. That probably looked weird.

"I didn't smack his _ ass _," Ryan protests. "I just--" He backhands the side of Shane's hip. It only stings a little, but it makes a distinct noise.

_ It does sound like a spank _, Shane thinks. Makes sense; that's basically what it is. 

Sara gives Ryan a wry look. "What the hell do you think that looks like to Gadiel? Because when Curly told me, he said that Gadiel told him you smacked his ass." 

"Jesus, the gossip" Shane says. "That was less than half an hour ago." He still gets startled by how fast news travels at BuzzFeed.

"Yeah, the gossip," Sara says. She looks at Ryan. "So I hope you're ready, Bergara, because ready or not, we've got to come up with something to sate the insatiable."

Ryan groans, thumping the heel of his hand into his forehead. "I honestly didn't even think about it," he says. "I'm really sorry."

Sara's expression softens. She doesn't look quite so frustrated anymore.

"Well, as far as I see it, we've got three options," Sara says. She looks at Shane too. "We could explain what's actually happening--" 

Shane shakes his head. "TMI, Sara," he says. "I really don't want that." He's just barely comfortable with the things they do in private. He can't even imagine the horror of it being public in their place of business.

"We can misdirect with a little truth and a little lie. Polyamory is a thing now, right?"she continues. 

"What?!" They're in unison and the effect is loud in the contained space of the bathroom.

"That's not what this is," Ryan mutters, and there's some color back in his cheeks as he starts to blush. It's cute.

"I mean, it kind of is," Shane says, matching Ryan’s low volume. "We're not fucking, but it's kind of like, like non-romantic dating." 

"Yeah, that's called 'friendship,' you jerk," Ryan says. 

"I dunno," Sara muses, her eyes sparkling. "Can't say I ever spent my time with friends doing the kind of shit you two get up to."

Ryan just shakes his head. He looks very, very red. "Well, whatever. They're just words."

Sara laughs. "Okay, we've gotten off track, but I see you're not a fan. So our last option is…We can ignore the shit out of it and hope it runs its course." 

Her eyes are scanning between his and Ryan's

Sara looks at them seriously. "All for ignoring the shit out of it and continuing on with business as usual?" she asks. 

Three hands immediately fly into the air and Ryan whispers, "Oh, thank God." Shane claps his hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"It'll pass. Someone else will fuck up soon and that will be the new thing," Shane says. It's true; there's always something happening around here.

"The only way this will work is if we ignore everything and continue on exactly like we have been. If it's boring, everyone will move on to the next weird scoop as soon as it comes around. At most, it'll probably be a real weird week or two." She suddenly reaches down and whips off her sandal. Shane is surprised to see Ryan take a step back, hands up defensively. It doesn't slow Sara down. She just leans forward and smacks Ryan on the side of his hip, exactly where he'd backhanded Shane. It makes him yelp, "Hey!" and knock back into Shane, who steadies him.

It sounded a lot harder than the smack Ryan gave him.

"And keep your hands to yourself in public, Ryan Bergara, or so help me," she says, shaking the sandal at him menacingly. Ryan still has his hands up. 

"Okay, okay! Jesus, where did you learn that?" He sounds more than a little disturbed. "You have a Latina grandmother somewhere that nobody mentioned?

Shane watches Sara shrug as she steps back into the sandal. "Curly said it would work," she says. 

That makes sense. Curly is basically everyone's Latina grandmother, despite being a childless, 32-year-old man. He really contains multitudes.

Ryan scowls. "Unfair psychological warfare," he grumbles. He steps away from Shane just enough that he's no longer hiding.

Apparently he's braver when Sara's shoes are _ on. _

"Well-deserved," Sara shoots back. "Now go pretend everything's normal, and don't spank him in public, or I'll really give the gossip mill something to work with!"

"Yes ma'am," Ryan says, pretending to salute her before moving to check out his hair in the mirror. Shane comes in closer and wraps his arm around her shoulders. 

"Nice shot, babe," he murmurs. She tilts her head up and gives him a brief kiss.

"Alright, I'm going to get lunch. You boys want to join me?"

She cracks the door open, then immediately slams it shut before flipping back to face them. Her face is as white as he’s ever seen. Shane feels his stomach drop, and next to him, he hears Ryan's quick inhale.

"Who is it?" Shane barely breathes, because that's the only thing it can be. Her eyes squeeze closed for a moment.

"TJ," she mouths. 

Ok, TJ. TJ isn't so bad. He’s a little weird himself. He doesn't have patience with gossip. He's a friend.

On the other hand… He's a _ friend _, and someone they work with every single day. Oh shit.

Ryan’s arm wraps around Shane’s back, and Shane leans his face against the top of Ryan’s hair. In front of him, Sara puts her face against his chest. “Oh shit,” she breathes. He rubs his hand on her back. Ryan’s hand covers his. He feels Sara’s arms moving, and one is around his back. He’s assuming the other is around Ryan since he can’t feel it.

It's a hell of a time for a group hug, but people _ do _bond through shared trauma.

Unsurprisingly, it's Sara who gets it together first. "We aren't doing anything wrong," she says, pulling away from him. Her face is getting very pink. "Come on. Let's get lunch."

And because she's the bravest soul he's ever met, she flings open the door and heads out. Shane's right on her heels, even though he's never felt so naked, but it’s either follow or get left behind.. He almost stops to say god only knows what to TJ, but Ryan's hand on his back keeps him moving. Ryan's expression might be stoic but his face is practically glowing, Shane notices when he glances back. TJ is leaning against the wall, watching their tiny parade.

"Anyone else in there, or can I shit in peace?" he asks gruffly.

"All yours, man," Ryan manages. His voice is mildly strangled. The door shuts loudly behind them. Shane doesn't look back.

By unspoken agreement, they keep walking all the way out to Shane and Sara's car, which is larger than Ryan's. Ryan practically dives into the back seat, Sara's behind the wheel, and Shane manages to fold himself into the passenger.

There's a beat of silence. And then all three of them start laughing hysterically. 

* * *

TJ shakes his head. The three of them aren't as undercover as they think they are.

For one thing, the bathroom isn't soundproof. TJ knows what a spanking sounds like, seeing as his wife is also his sub, and he definitely heard someone get smacked hard in there. From the specific nasal tone of the shout, he would put money on it being Ryan Bergara.

He hadn't recognized the girl's voice, but he'd heard her tell him off, tell him, "Don't spank him in public or l'll really give the gossip mill something to work with," which had made TJ take a new track in his brain, because that sounded like there were three people involved.. 

Hey, TJ isn't judging. He likes to get up to kinky shit in his bedroom too, although he generally keeps it between him and his wife. But if Bergara found two people who will let him sleep with them, good for him.

"Yes ma'am," and yeah, definitely Bergara, teasing but also sincere. There's a moment of quiet before the girl says, "I'm going to get lunch. You boys want to join me?" And then the door opens, and Sara Rubin's tiny face is right there.

Just as fast, it's gone, and TJ has to bite his lip so he doesn't laugh. Process of elimination puts the three people in there as Sara, Shane, and Ryan. Apparently the gossip he'd heard between Devon and Mark this morning was true. _ Huh. _

The boys have always been pretty weird, so it’s hard to tell what’s new versus what’s just the boys being strange like always.

Well, it's honestly none of his business. The sadist inside him wants to let them writhe, but the friend says it would be a dick move to let it go too long. There's probably a compromise there...

He watches the door open again, and Sara charges out, pink-faced and walking fast but with her head held high. She doesn't look at him. 

Shane is right behind her, and he's looking around, forward at Sara, down to his feet, and even at TJ, obviously embarrassed if the redness of his face means anything. He's hunched over like a question mark, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach. _ Sub _, TJ decides. Ryan might have gotten smacked, but Shane looks like a lost little duckling.

Ryan also doesn't look at him, and he's got a decent poker face, but he's pink all the way to his ears. He pushes slightly at the small of Shane's back when Shane nearly stops, sending him onward. _ Switch _, TJ thinks. That makes sense. He's definitely thought that about Bergara at certain points. Of the three, Ryan's the only one he'd ever thought might be kinky before though.

Apparently he'd been underestimating his co-workers.

He'll have to send a text later. He really “should” be sending it to Sara, since she seems to be the Domme here, but he doesn't have her telephone number and he sure as shit isn't doing this through any channels that BuzzFeed IT or HR could have access to. 

So Ryan will have to work. 

Anyway, he could be wrong. Maybe she and Ryan both switch, and he just caught them at a particular moment. And that means he won't have to try to get her personal number, which would probably seem a little creepy at this point. He did just catch her coming out of the bathroom with two men. He doesn’t want her to think that he’s judging her, or worse, coming on to her.

It's pretty clear anyway that whoever he sends it to, all three of them will get the message. And TJ has never been all that concerned with "proper" BDSM protocols, because it's not rocket science, and he's never had a lot of patience for people who take themselves too seriously. It's supposed to be fun, after all.

Plus, he's gonna make eye contact all fucking day and see who breaks first. 

Like he said--fun.

* * *

It's been a hell of a day.

If he hadn't been so careless, it would have been a lot easier. But whatever, what's done is done.

They'd gone out for lunch together after their mortifying encounter with TJ, and Ryan had paid. This whole thing was pretty much his fault. He figured he owed them.

Upon return, Sara was free to flee to the relative safety of the art department, but he and Shane had work to do.

It had immediately become apparent to Ryan that TJ was enjoying their discomfort. Which, fair. Ryan probably would have felt the same if he were in TJ's shoes.

But he wasn't. It took everything Ryan had not to blush, to meet TJ's eyes. He wasn't completely successful.

Internally, he put another check in the column labeled, ‘TJ is a Sadist.”

But anyway, he's at Sara and Shane's now, and they're eating pizza. Sara made a salad as a concession for health, but it's been an unusual day.

If there is any day they deserve to eat takeout twice, it's this one.

They're all on the couch. It's very quiet and domestic. Bojack Horseman plays on the TV, but Ryan at least isn't paying it much attention.

Shane grabs another slice from the box and takes a giant bite. Grease drips down his chin, and Sara silently passes him one of the napkins the delivery girl left. 

Ryan feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It buzzes again. Then again. He sighs, wipes his hand on another napkin, and digs it out. 

> ** _TJ Marchbank: As much fun as I had giving you all shit today, I won't say anything._ **
> 
> ** _TJ Marchbank: What you all get up to is your own business._ **
> 
> ** _TJ Marchbank: However, if I may give you a little unsolicited advice: those bathroom doors aren't soundproof._ **

Ryan lets out a groan. Sara and Shane swivel their faces towards him. "Now what?" Sara asks.

He reads the texts aloud to them. Sara looks horrified. Shane just laughs.

"Glad I was basically just observing," he says glibly. Ryan's tempted to smack him, but Sara cuts him off at the pass with a pointy little elbow to Shane's side.

The "Oof!" is satisfying.

His phone buzzes again in his hand. 

> ** _TJ Marchbank: So if you'd like to keep your ass whoopings to yourself in the future, I'd advise not doing them at work._ **

Oh God. Can you actually die from embarrassment? He scrubs his hand over his face.

"What?" Sara asks, while Shane raises his eyebrows questioningly.

"TJ was out there for a while," Ryan says. Sara and Shane's eyes both widen in a way that would be comical in literally any other situation. "Guess he heard you whack me with _ la chancla _."

Shane snorts, while Sara looks more appropriately embarrassed. Then she freezes.

"Did he hear us discussing everything?" Sara asks, and suddenly Shane looks like he's not so thrilled either. 

"Crap, what did we even say?" Shane asks. 

There's a moment of quiet as all three think back. Ryan can't remember anything particularly concerning. Did they mention the 'little' thing at all? Not by name, anyway.

Shane and Sara seem to come to the same conclusion, because Shane relaxes back into the couch and Sara's shoulders come down from her ears.

"Okay, so he just thinks we're a little kinky," Ryan says. "That's not that terrible, I guess. It's pretty true." He expects Sara to deny it, to say, 'Speak for yourself,' but she doesn't.

"He probably thinks we're all fucking," Shane points out. Sara shrugs.

"I could do worse," she says. Ryan laughs, and Shane shakes his head.

"I know he's a beautiful man, but I'm right here," Shane says plaintively, and that makes Ryan wheeze. Sara pats Shane's shoulder.

"I mean, in this scenario he's your beautiful man too," she points out. Shane pretends to perk up at that. 

Ryan, meanwhile, feels a blush creep up his face, because he knows they're joking, but he's not exactly used to being called beautiful.

"What the hell do I text back?" Ryan asks. 

"I dunno. 'Thanks,' maybe?" Shane offers.

Sara sighs. "Tell him we appreciate his discretion," she says, "and we're sorry for accidentally pulling him into this."

Those seem like good words, so Ryan types them in and after a second of hesitation, hits the send button.

After a moment, his phone buzzes again. He's almost scared to look.

> ** _TJ Marchbank: I know those are Sara's words. But yeah, it's fine. No worries._ **

Ryan rolls his eyes and passes the phone across Shane's chest to Sara. She reads it and giggles. She types something in, then passes the phone back to Ryan.

He looks at it.

> ** _Ryan Bergara: Goodnight from all of us, then_ **. 

"It could have been worse," Ryan points out. "Really, we got lucky it was Teej. Can you imagine if it had been one of the interns? It would be plastered all over social media by now."

It's not like this situation is covered by NDAs.

"Or Steven" Shane says. "We would have had to listen to him stutter through a lecture about the price of our "eternal souls," and he made air quotes with his fingers, "and then he'd never be able to look any of us in the face ever again."

Oh yeah. Steven would have been awful; he's a great dude, but he's super religious. He's probably the only person in the whole building who would have been more uncomfortable catching them than they were being caught.

"Or even Curly. I thought he was going to die just telling me what Gadiel had told him. He's been really trying to watch our backs, but I think that particular piece of gossip would have been too much for even a pinkie promise," Sara adds.

Oh God. Ryan can't help but be extremely thankful it wasn't Curly. He loves the guy, but yeah. Gossip like this would make his head actually explode.

The next few weeks are probably going to be interesting, but honestly, it's not like anything has _ actually _ changed. 

But just in case… He's gonna try to keep his hands to himself at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk with me at littlebunnywrites.tumblr.com


	4. ♥️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara buys Shane some new pajamas.
> 
> Shane is super grumpy and cute.
> 
> Ryan loves it.
> 
> OR, it's playtime.

Sara is at Target. It's one of her favorite places to shop, but right now she's just getting office and cleaning supplies.

Ok, she came in for those things, until she walks past the men's clothing. She sees something blue and fuzzy. Is that...a Care Bear pajama suit?

She pushes her cart into the pajama section and looks at it closer. It looks like those sleepers for toddlers but super-sized and without feet. The body is fuzzy, and the Grumpy Bear logo on the chest is bisected by a zipper. She pulls it off the rack in an XL because it's apparently a popular item and all that's left is either that or small. 

She unfolds it against the cart and snaps a photo, making sure she gets the little hood with the ears. Then she starts texting.

> **Sara Rubin: look Shane! You'd be so adorable. **

She sends it to the group chat. Her phone buzzes.

> ** _Shane Madej: It's really cute, but that cannot be comfortable._ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: 😅😅😅 Awww! _ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: Buy it! Omg plz buy it, I'm begging you_ **

She laughs out loud in the middle of Target. Of course Ryan wants her to buy it. As much as Shane likes being little, Ryan likes being a Daddy even more, even if neither of them will call him that by name.

> ** _Sara Rubin: But it's so soft!_ **

She kind of wants to buy it for Shane, to be honest. She is pretty sure that he'd really like them, at least when he's being little with Ryan.

> ** _Shane Madej: I'm *tall* Sar. That's gonna be a perpetual wedgie!_ **

Oh, yeah. She doesn't forget that he's tall, of course, but she sometimes forgets that woes with clothing fit aren't something only short people struggle with. She sighs and examines them again.

> ** _Sara Rubin: It's got a drop crotch._ **

It might actually fit him. It's hard to tell. The suit is nearly longer than she is tall. Most of Shane's height is in his ridiculous legs anyway.

> ** _Ryan Bergara: does it come in size Sasquatch?_ **
> 
> ** _Sara Rubin: If it fits, will you wear it?_ **
> 
> ** _Ryan Bergara: He will. Come on, you know you will._ **
> 
> ** _Shane Madej: There's no way it will fit. I am a big man._ **
> 
> ** _Shane Madej: Also, the name calling is hurtful Ryan._ **

She laughs, because she knows Shane's feelings aren't actually hurt. She drops the pajamas in the cart.

Worse comes to worst, she can always return them if they don't fit.

She gets back. Shane is humming in the shower, already finished with mowing the grass like he said he'd do. They have a fairly small yard. 

She sticks her head in the bathroom. "I'm back. Got you something!"

He pops his head out from behind the curtain. "You didn't," he says.

She laughs and waves the fuzzy pajamas in his general direction. He shakes his head. A bit of shampoo runs down the side of his face. "They aren't gonna fit," he says, and ducks back into the shower.

He comes out of the bedroom wearing them. She can't help the smile, because everyone looks like an oversized toddler in that style of pajama.

They fit though, and he looks freaking adorable. 

"I look ridiculous," he grumbles.

It's not bespoke or anything, but the fit is remarkably decent. She can see his ankle and wrist bones, but only a little bit when he moves. He rubs his own arms like he's cold, and she can tell he likes the fabric.

"Turn around," she says, giving him a gesture to spin. Obediently, he does. The hood is hanging down against, his back. There's no wedgie, at least, even if it doesn't do his cute butt justice.

"It's cute," she says. "Come on, Shane. It's not bad for $25 bucks."

"I mean, it is comfortable," he admits, turning back to face her. She rolls her eyes, because he plainly does like it, even if he's not admitting it. He catches the look on her face, and then he's laughing. "Alright, alright. They're soft, it's comfy, you're right." He unzips it, peels it off his shoulders, and leans down to kiss her. He smells nice. "Thank you, dear, it's a nice present. I'm gonna go put real clothes on now."

She laughs at his retreating back. "I wanna see Ryan's face when you show him!" she calls after him.

* * *

So the next time Ryan comes over to play, Shane wears them.

He feels pretty silly sitting on the couch in the pajamas, even if they are made of this soft, fuzzy fabric that basically turns him into a giant teddy bear. They're cozy as hell. He still feels dumb, and not at all little.

Sara's sitting next to him, but she's dressed cute, planning to leave for her girl's night when Ryan gets here. She's meeting a couple of college friends for dinner and drinks, but was apparently sincere that she wants to see Ryan's reaction to the pajamas. They're idly watching a rerun of the Golden Girls, but neither one is invested. Really they're just scrolling through their respective Twitter feeds.

There's a knock on the door. He looks at Sara. 

"Alright, I'm calling the Uber," she says, tapping purposefully on the phone screen.

"I'm not answering the door in this," he says. Not that he thinks it will scandalize the neighbors or anything, but he feels pretty stupid. 

She snorts. "Fine. Put the hood up," she tells him, tugging on it. "It's part of the charm." He does, and she goes to let Ryan in.

Ryan barely clears the door to the living room before he stops dead. Shane's pretty sure it's because he's sitting there in a hooded onesie with his striped-sock feet on the table.

"Oh my god!" Ryan's laughing, but Shane can tell he's thrilled. "You actually bought it for him?" He's grinning that huge, white grin of his. "I can't believe you actually bought it!"

"Yeah, yeah, yuck it up," Shane says, but he can't help laughing too, because Ryan's laughter is often contagious. "I look cute as fuck in this."

It must be obvious that onesie or not, Shane isn't actually feeling little right now, because Ryan just laughs instead of threatening to spank him. He turns to Sara, who is also smiling.

He doesn't know why she gets such a kick out of this. She's not interested in joining, or even watching anything more intense than them cuddling on the couch, but she really enjoys seeing them both happy about this weird shit.

"You're the best," Ryan tells her. "Look at him! I love it." She pats his shoulder. 

"He does too, don't let him tell you different," she says conspiratorially. 

"It's soft!" Shane protests. "And comfy!" Listen, he does like those qualities. "It just looks ridiculous!"

"Aw, you look cute, Grumpy," Ryan says, and his eyes are smiley even though he's not actually laughing anymore. Shane pushes the hood off his head.

"See, I told you," Sara says. Shane deliberately folds his arms over his chest.

"You're ganging up on me," he says. "The two of you planned every bit of this, didn't you?" He wouldn't put it past them.

"Never," Sara says. "The blame is on Target and your cute face."

"Fucking Target," he grumbles. They're comfy pajamas, but he can't help but feel silly, especially since Sara is dressed in going-out clothes, and Ryan looks like he always does, in jeans and a hoodie. Shane's the oldest one here, and he's the only one dressed like a toddler about to go to bed.

He hears a low buzz, and Sara looks down at her phone. "Alright, I'm leaving now, cuz the Uber is gonna be out there any minute," she says. "See you boys later." She grabs her tiny purse off the bench by the door.

"Bye Sara!" they chorus.

"Love you!" Shane adds. She blows him a kiss and then she's gone.

Ryan locks the door for her, then carefully unlaces and takes off his shoes before sitting down on the couch. "She really bought it for you," he marvels again. His hand hovers over Shane's arm, then lands, rubbing lightly. "It _ is _ soft."

"Yeah," Shane agrees. Ryan's hand feels comfortably heavy on his arm. "Also, warm. Too warm for California, the only place where people wear sweaters and blast central air."

Ryan smiles. "Yeah, probably better suited for Illinois, but it's not like you're melting in it."

Ryan's not wrong; he's perfectly comfortable. He sighs. 

"This is your fault, you know," he says. "She wouldn't have bought it if you didn't ask." And Ryan laughs as though that statement wasn't perfectly true, and moves his arm around Shane's shoulders, tugging him until he is leaning against his side.

"You look adorable," he says, and his voice changes cadence, becoming more teasing. "Don't be grumpy." He pokes Shane gently in the belly. "Even if you're Grumpy Bear."

"I'm not grumpy," Shane says, feeling himself start to slip. "You're making fun of me again!"

"Aww, big guy, I wouldn't do that, would I?" He tickles him slightly, and despite himself, Shane lets out a giggle. "Not to my sweet little boy?"

He wants to hold on to that grumpy face, but it's impossible. Ryan is getting this sending-Shane-into-little-space thing down to an art, and Shane can't really fight it when Ryan uses that condescending lilt. He brings his hand up to his mouth.

Ryan's hand catches it before he gets a chance to chew on it. "Nope, nope, nope. Not your fingers, buddy," he reminds him. "Remember?" 

Oh, yeah. Ry doesn't like him sucking on his hands because of germs. He nods. "Sorry," he says quietly, because he knows how much Ry hates germs. Ryan's still got his wrist though.

"No, no sorry. Where's your binky, bud?" he asks. "Shouldn't that be in your mouth?"

"I didn't want it," he says, because he had been big until two minutes ago. "I was big."

"Not you," Ryan coos at him. "I know you're my big guy, but you're still little. Aren't you?"

And he falls completely. "'Kay," he says softly, looking up at Ry. Ry lets go of his wrist and pats him on the shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go get it for you, ok? Then we can play Lego or something."

And that sounds fun, so Shane stands up and lets Ry take his hand and lead him to the guest room.

It's not a very interesting room. There's nothing fun on the walls, no dinosaurs or spaceships or anything else that makes him feel little. But in the closet, under all his big clothes, there's a large, plastic tub. Sara found it at Target, and it's got pictures of Lego Pirates on the outside. He practically pulls Ry to it and Ry laughs. 

"You want your binky that bad?" he teases.

Shane shakes his head, because he does want the binky, but he _ really _ wants to play Lego, now that Ry has reminded him that they can. "Lego," he says, letting go of Ry so he can grab the box with both hands and bring it to the middle of the room. He sits down on the floor to open it.

His coloring stuff is in there, and a bunch of Lego that he and Sara had gotten from a garage sale last month (and Shane had sprayed them down with the pressure washer to get rid of the dust), but on top of those things is a small plastic Tupperware.

Ry grabs it and pops it open. "Teal or white?" he asks, showing them to Shane. Shane points, and Ry places his favorite gently in his mouth.

"There, bud," he says. "Better than a yucky old finger, right?"

Shane nods agreeably. He starts dumping Lego all over the floor, and he hears Ry sigh.

"You're gonna clean those up later, little boy," he says.

"'Kay," he mumbles. "Make a spaceship with me." He looks up at Ry, who is still standing, smiling down at him.

"Alright buddy," he says, and he gets down on the floor next to Shane, who is already sorting the blocks. "What kind of spaceship?"

"M'lennium Falcon?" Shane offers around the pacifier in his mouth. It makes Ry laugh.

"We can try," he says, reaching over and ruffling Shane's hair.

* * *

"Pew-pew-pew!" Shane makes the noises gleefully with his mouth. It's adorable. Ryan watches him crash-land their multicoloured version of the Falcon into a pillow. Seems like a natural place to end.

"Okay, buddy," he says. "Let's get the Legos cleaned up and then we can have a snack."

"Ah, no!" Shane says. "We gotta save Han 'n' Chewie!"

Ryan's not sure if Shane is trying to brat or just being little and wanting to keep playing. It can be hard to tell sometimes. Shane can get pretty into this.

"Well, if you help me put the Legos away, we can come back next time and see what kind of progress they make in saving themselves," he offers. Shane sighs, blowing his hair up off his forehead. "Okaaaay," he drags out. 

Not bratting, then. Shane doesn't always actually want a full-blown spanking, and if he's not looking for one, he tends to be pretty easy-going and cooperative. It makes it easy for Ryan to figure out without having to be explicitly told.

They've figured out a lot of things in the past couple of months, on both sides.

It takes them while to find all the pieces scattered in the carpet, but Ryan's relatively sure they picked them all up. He also finds the pacifier that Shane lost about the time he started making blaster noises. He shoves that in his pocket because he wants to wash it before Shane shoves it in his mouth again. 

"Let's go get a snack, buddy," he says. He glances at his watch. "You wanna eat popcorn and watch a movie?" It's usually how they end their nights when they hang out, especially when Shane is little.

"Yeah!" Shane enthuses. He drops the lid on the tub and pushes it back into the closet. Then he grabs Ryan's hand. "Come on!"

Ryan lets Shane pull him out to the kitchen, but stops him when he heads to the cupboard. "Hang on, big guy," he tells him. "We gotta wash our hands first."

Shane sighs again, but changes course for the sink. "Cuz germs, right Ry?" he asks, dutifully scrubbing his hands together.

"Yeah, cuz germs." He knows Shane is only humoring him, but he'll take it. 

Ryan washes the pacifier too, and offers it back to his little big guy, who is happy enough to take it back. Shane's not as much of a talker when he's little. He tends to be more quiet and wide-eyed, watching everything.

Unless there are blaster noises to make, of course.

After that's done, Ryan pulls out a barstool. "Here. Sit while I make the popcorn," he tells him, and Shane does. He drums his heels against the lower rung by his feet as Ryan pours a little oil in the pot. He sprinkles a couple kernels in and puts the lid on top.

Air popped might be healthier, but as far as taste is concerned, it's all about doing it the old-fashioned way.

"Can we watch _Thor_?" Shane asks. He glances over his shoulder. It's still a little weird when little Shane asks permission to do something instead of just doing it, but in a good way. 

He can't help it. He enjoys the responsibility of it all. 

"Yeah, but wait for me, buddy," he tells him. He hears the kernels ping off the lid, and promptly adds more. 

"I can do it," Shane says.

"No, honey. You're too little for that," he tells him, and Shane curls down in that embarrassed way he sometimes gets when Ryan is making him feel really little. His face pinks up.

It's beautiful. 

Ryan can hardly believe that he never knew that he wanted to take care of a little before, because it's come to him so naturally and felt so right. Not that he's ever been a stingy kind of Dom--whenever he takes that role, he's good about reading his sub and making sure that they get what they need, and he's never, ever skimped on aftercare--but he's never gotten to be so blatantly soft-hearted either. 

It suits him, he thinks. 

At work, he's always had to be, or at least seem like, a hard ass. And he's driven, perfectionistic, and demanding there, because they are putting a product out into the world that carries their names and faces. Plus, he's always been aware that as a mixed-race person, he'd have to work harder to prove himself, because some people are racist and that sucks. But while doing this with Shane, he can be sweet, soft, and gentle, because Shane actually likes it when Ry babies him. And he doesn't judge Ryan for not being any of those harder-edged things here.

He wouldn't judge him anyway, to be honest. 

This thing is good for them both in different ways.

He grabs one of the mixing bowls from the top shelf and instinctively catches Shane's sippy as it nearly falls on his head. "What do you want to drink, honey?" he asks. He takes the time to pour the popcorn into the largest mixing bowl Sara and Shane own and turns off the stove.

There's no response from his boy, so he turns. "What was that?" he tries again. Shane just shrugs, looking content. Sometimes he just wants Ry to do it for him. So Ryan opens the fridge (and in his head, he can hear his _ abuela _ yelling at him that you _ never _ open the fridge in someone else's home, but he silently defends that even though he doesn't live here, this is his home too) and pours apple juice into it. He screws the lid on and hands it to Shane.

"Thank you," Shane says in the tiniest little voice. He can't help the smile it provokes; it's just too cute.

He wonders if Shane actually practices being tiny and adorable in front of the mirror, because no one that tall should be able to do that.

"You're welcome, buddy. What good manners you have," he praises, and Shane turns even pinker. "Come on. Let's go sit on the couch."

So they end up on the couch together, like they usually do. He's holding the popcorn in his lap, and he's got an arm cuddled around Shane, who is leaning against him, his long legs stretching down the length of the couch. 

He starts _ Thor: Ragnarok _ on Netflix, and Shane lets out a happy little sigh and takes a handful of popcorn.

He still isn't expecting Shane to actually fall asleep, but that's what happens. Hela has just started beating the ever-loving shit out of Thor when he hears a loud snore and looks down.

Shane's face is smashed against his chest, which is probably causing the snoring. (He's not usually much of a snorer.) It doesn't look all that comfortable.

A handful of popcorn has fallen from Shane's hand into the floor too. He laughs, but silently, because he doesn't want to wake his little one. Shane mumbles something, but he's out.

Using every bit of athletic skill he has, he manages to wiggle out from under Shane, carefully lowering his head to one of their throw pillows. Shane continues to breathe evenly, though the snores stop.

He sees the pacifier where Shane abandoned it on the counter, and a thought hits him. He snags it because he really can't resist.

Ryan teases the binky slightly against Shane's lips, and sure enough, he takes it, sucking at it lightly. He would think Shane was pretending to sleep, but there's a little drool happening. That's a little too realistic.

He probably shouldn't think it's as cute as he does. Shane just looks so _little_, cozied up in a onesie and a pacifier, his sippy on the couch next to him. God help him, but Shane is actually adorable like this. He takes a picture that he hides in a file called "the fridge" on his phone. It's password-protected and where he puts any pictures that are related to the little thing.

There are more than a few.

Ryan is struck hard by the desire to cuddle little Shane, but he also doesn't want to wake him up. If he's this tired, he should sleep anyway. 

He manages to clean up the popcorn Shane dropped on the rug and wash the pot before Shane stirs. "Ry?" he mumbles around the paci. But Ryan hears it, because he's been wondering if Shane would wake up or if he'd just sleep like that until Sara got home.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Ryan says from the kitchen. Shane actually rolls to the ground before standing up. The pacifier is still seated in his mouth where Ryan left it.

Shane walks right up to him and throws his arms around his neck. Ryan's hands are still a little wet, but he dries then hastily on his jeans and hugs him back. "Hey big guy," he says. "Have a nice nap?"

Shane nods. "Hi," he says. He's definitely little; he might actually be littler than he was before he fell asleep. "You don't have to do the dishes, you know," he mumbles.

"I think that's for me to decide, since I'm the grown up here," he says, patting Shane's hip lightly. He knows that it makes Shane feel little when he does that. And sure enough, Shane squirms in his arms, another tell-tale sign that Ryan has him feeling tiny.

Ryan's really learned how to read his little boy. And he's not subtle; the exact opposite of his inscrutable adult self. Ryan actually loves it.

"'kay," Shane says. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I know," Ryan says. "You must have been pretty sleepy though, huh? You missed half the movie." 

"Yeah," Shane sighs. ""I gotta go," He lets go of Ryan and turns.

"Go where?" Ryan asks. "You're in your pajamas, big guy." And it's getting late, too; he's not sure where Shane thinks he's going. Is he still asleep? Shane doesn't sleep walk, does he?

"No," Shane says, but he stops. "I mean, I gotta go pee!"

Ryan has to hold back a laugh, because those are not words he expected at all, and they're just so _ little _. "You don't have to ask," he tells him, and Shane turns and nearly skids on his socked feet into the bathroom.

Ryan goes back to the couch. In a couple minutes, Shane joins him. He smells like hand soap.

"Can we cuddle?" he asks, standing in front of Ryan as though he might deny him.

"You bet," Ryan replies, holding up his arm. Shane slots himself right in and tosses an arm over Ryan's stomach.

A Marvel cartoon is playing now, because of the autoplay, and they watch it together. Ryan feels better, feels more loved than he has for months, since before his ex-girlfriend left. It's a different kind of love, platonic not romantic, but his heart still feels so full.

"I love you," he says to his little big guy, because he does. His heart stops for just a beat, because that's not supposed to be something that men say, not to their friends. What if Shane misunderstands? What if it's weird?

"Love you too, Ry," Shane says back, no hesitation whatsoever, and it's easy, like breathing.

Ryan lets out a deep sigh. "Good," he says, because it is.

* * *

The onesie joins the rest of the stuff in his 'little' pirates box. 

Shane decides that he loves it, even if he has to practically get naked to pee because the zipper is weird and doesn't go low enough.

Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the people you love.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to read meta or chat with the author, hit me up at littlebunnywrites.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, please leave a kudos and/or review.


End file.
